Box of Chocolates
by Kasienda
Summary: Series of UsaMamo one-shots written based on prompts provided by MamoUsaWeek on Tumblr. It's a box of chocolates! You never know what you're going to get! Valentines (fluff), Date Night (light angst/fluff), Harvard AU (angst), Usagi's Birthday (pregnancy), Fight and Make Up (break up arc).
1. Day 2: Box of Chocolates

A/N: Written for MamoUsa Week 2018 hosted by mamousaweek on Tumblr. Day Two's prompt was Usagi and Mamoru during a holiday of some sort.

…

Usagi tapped her fingers on the table watching the analogue clock that Mamoru still hung over his kitchen table despite the invention of digital everything. He said it was tasteful decoration. The shorter golden hand felt somewhere between the nine and ten pm mark.

She sighed, and let her golden head fall to the table. It was Valentine's Day, and he hadn't even sent her a text message. She knew that he was finishing up his third twenty hour shift that week and he was likely dead on his feet. Being a resident was apparently really hard – even for her super smart boyfriend. She wished she had no expectations, but truth was she did. She needed _something_ from him. Just needed to know that he was thinking of her or missing her. It was supposed to be a special day.

She glanced at the clock again, her chest clenching slightly in fear. He was late. Mamoru was never late – certainly not by forty minutes. And her mind spun with "what ifs". She tried to dismiss the fear as irrational, but part of her never could stop worrying. It was too easy to imagine an exhausted Mamoru hurt in a tragic car accident, or the victim of a random mugging, or worse a new enemy!

The familiar sound of a key twisting in its lock, allowed her to draw breath again as she immediately leapt to her feet. The door swung open revealing an exhausted Mamoru, still dressed in his scrubs. His shoulders slumped and he had deep bags under both eyes, but he gave her a small smile, so tender she couldn't understand how she ever doubted that he wasn't missing her.

The second the door had closed, she seized him in an embrace, which he could not fully return because she had not given him time to put down his briefcase or the mystery gift bag in the other hand that she suddenly didn't much care about, just happy he was safe and in her arms.

"I'm glad you're home," she mumbled into his chest. "I was starting to get worried."

He rested his chin on her shoulder and squeezed her hard, nuzzling his nose into her hair. "I'm sorry I am home late. I thought I would be in trouble if I came home empty handed on Valentine's Day."

Her cheeks reddened in embarrassment at his accurate prediction.

"I never want to make your day feel longer though," she countered.

He pulled back, revealing a smile and dropped his briefcase to the floor in a very un-Mamoru like fashion – void of any care or decorum. And held his gift bag out to her eagerly, no doubt completely aware that she wouldn't want to wait anyway.

She tore away the white tissue paper revealing a flat box wrapped in shiny red paper that looked suspiciously like it contained an assortment of fancy chocolates, but one could never be too sure with Mamoru – he sometimes liked to disguise his presents.

She finished opening it – and revealed the multitude of little brown mounds – some covered in chocolate sprinkles, and others with white or pink swirls. She reached for one – a marble smooth layer of chocolate over a lumpy form suggesting there were nutty treasures to discover under its folds. She had waited all day for such a treat.

"Wait."

"Are you trying to get between me and chocolate, Mamo-chan?!"

He laughed, a sound that rumbled pleasantly through the whole room. "I would never dream of it. I just thought we could savor it."

Her eyes softened. She did have a tendency to tear through an entire box in one sitting and he was lucky to get one or two pieces before she had annihilated the whole population. He had never been able to keep any chocolate in the house since becoming her boyfriend.

"I picked out eighteen different specialty chocolates," he explained. "Some I thought, you would like, others are personal favorites of mine. And I got two of every single one. I thought we could eat the same one at the same time, and share our favorite with one another. You pick one, and we'll both eat it. Then, I'll pick one and we'll both eat it."

"And then discuss differing flavors like a couple of chocolatier scholars?" she accused, an amused smile bursting from her lips.

"If you want," he agreed softly, his eyes glinting with some unspoken promise.

"You pick first," she said holding out the open box of fancy chocolates to him.

His fingers immediately retrieved a heart shaped piece, and she echoed his movements to its pair. And she reached in for its pair.

"You're lucky this is a cute idea," she mumbled around the smooth velvety texture of the candy suddenly invading her senses.

"Why is that?"

"Because this is clearly just a scheme to get me to save half the chocolate for you!"

"I admit to nothing."

She laughed, set the rest of uneaten chocolates aside, and pulled him into a heated kiss. She really shouldn't complain – she liked it when he tasted of dark chocolate. "Happy Valentine's Day, Mamo-chan. I love you."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Usako. I love you too."

…

A/N: Hey! I can actually write fluff sometimes! And yes, this is an actual tradition my husband and I have, whenever we splurge on an actual box of chocolates.

I hated my first draft, and I despaired – wondering how anyone can just produce anything of quality in so short a time! (Seriously! I am such a slow writer!) A night of sleep and a second hour of writing fixed it into something I am proud to post. Hope you enjoy it!


	2. Day 4: Date Night

A/N: Written for MamoUsa Week 2018 hosted by mamousaweek on Tumblr. Day Four's prompt was Date Night Usagi and Mamoru. I had to skip Day 3 because I have never actually seen any piece of PGSM except for screen shots.

...

The second the clock ticked over five pm, Mamoru flew out of the clinic. This was one of those rare nights when the stars had aligned - where Usagi had managed to avoid any late-night meetings, the girls didn't have any social engagement planned, Mamoru was not on call, and Ikuko had agreed to babysit Chibiusa overnight. That meant he and his wife were going on a date – an actual date with wine, romantic lighting, and the adult company of his favorite person on the planet.

He tossed his white coat into the back seat revealing the business casual ensemble underneath, and leapt into the front seat as eager as Chibiusa ever was on Christmas morning. He drove directly to the restaurant, in such a hurry he almost ran a red light. He stopped at the signal at the last second, and forced himself to breathe.

When he arrived, he didn't bother to look for parking – just tossed his keys to the valet and headed straight inside to "their" table. Usagi was already there dressed in her pale green dress – the one that left her shoulders bare, accenting her enticing neck.

"Usako," he purred, slipping into the seat beside her, not willing to sit across the table where he wouldn't be able to touch her, even if it meant he would be able to fall into her eyes just a little easier. Her small delicate fingers immediately interlaced with his own.

"Mamo-chan," she greeted with a face splitting smile. "I feel like I haven't _really_ seen you in weeks!"

"Five weeks, three days, and four hours."

"You've been counting?"

"No, but it sounded good, didn't it?"

She laughed. An angelic sound that he had missed. Between the insane schedule of a first-year resident, a brand new social worker of the prefecture who got the worst caseloads, a toddler that got into all sorts of mischief, and unpredictable paranormal responsibilities, it felt like they were juggling partners more than husband and wife. His number may have been a guess, but it was an educated guess. It felt like they only ever saw each other to hand off their daughter or gift the other with a plate of leftovers and a quick kiss good-bye.

"How _are_ you?" she asked him with sparkling compelling eyes.

"I am-" he started.

"May I answer any questions about the menu?" a server interrupted from the unoccupied side of the table.

Mamoru shot daggers at the young dark-haired waiter, who slumped immediately under his visual assault.

His wife squeezed his hand, clearly urging him to be calm. "We're ready to order actually."

It had been a few months since they had been here, and the workers had long ago stopped recognizing their faces, but they had once been regulars to this particular restaurant and knew their standard menu if not all the particular specials. It had no emotional significance or meaning – just a convenient location, a quiet ambiance, and food up to Mamoru's standards of excellence. But having a baby tended to change how your criteria for what made something an excellent restaurant.

The young man took their requests efficiently and dashed off, no doubt eager to flee the table and Mamoru's unwelcoming glare.

"Where were we?"

No sooner than he had asked the question, then Usagi's senshi communicator sounded – its familiar warning slicing through his glee like a hot knife through butter. Usagi growled in frustration, but Mamoru could only laugh at this point.

"You go," he told her with a quick kiss. "I will take care of the bill and be right behind you."

She nodded and took off, her green dress hugging her hips in the most enticing way.

He cornered their waiter again, handed him twice what their meal had cost. "Can you box the food? Someone will be by to pick it up in about thirty minutes. Be sure that it's ready by then and you can keep the change."

The young lad nodded frantically, suddenly grinning from ear to ear. He supposed it was just as well that he made _someone's_ night – even if it wasn't his wife's. He felt the pull of her transformation like an itch just beneath his skin – wanting to burst forth. He held it in until he was safely away from eyes in an alleyway across the way. The golden power pulsed over his form, and he felt the strength of his birthright roaring through his ears. He leapt into the skyline, and followed the magnetic pull that would lead him to his beloved.

He kept to a vantage point on top of a low hanging balcony close to the action, but out of the way, prepared as always to provide a helpful distraction or whisk her out of harm's reach. He was supposed to watch the beast that stalked his love, but his cobalt eyes drifted to the warrior as she stopped the creature in its tracks. Kami-sama, she had come such a long way since she started out as the Sailor Guardian of the Moon. Kicks and thrusts as precise and well-placed as any professional martial artist. Her twists and spirals as graceful and elegant as a dancer.

His whole body warmed, shook with a need to be closer to her – to touch her, to feel the press of her form against his own, the warmth of her flesh beneath his own.

She didn't need him though. She delivered her final blow with a casual flick of her wand, and the enemy was no more than a phantom.

Before any of the other senshi could comment or call, he swept her off her feet to the crest of a nearby skyscraper, crushing his lips down onto hers, pressing his swollen groin into her stomach so she knew how stunning he found her in that moment. She moaned softly, then pushed him back as if urging him to slow down. Her teeth pressed down on her bottom lip maddeningly, making him want to seize her all over again.

"I'm sorry our date was ruined," she said softly.

"There's plenty of it still left," he corrected.

"But we lost our table."

"I made other arrangements."

If the waiter had been intimidated by Mamoru's icy glare earlier, he was frozen in place at the sight of Tuxedo Kamen looming over him demanding the boxes of steaming fare. The hostess standing beside him was quick to comply with a little squeak. He nodded gratefully, offering her his most dazzling smile. She swooned, but he didn't notice – completely intent on returning to his favorite senshi who waited for him on the rooftop above.

She had sat down, clearly expecting they would have some sort of picnic, but he pulled her up to his feet and handed her the bagged take-out, before pulling her into his arms. There were simply far better views in Tokyo to settle for this.

The ended up on the top of Tokyo Tower, feet dangling off the side, each with an open take out box in their hands. They shared their lives with one another – the whole five weeks and three days or whatever it was. He hung on her every word, and drank in her crystal blue gaze as she listened to him.

He watched her carefully, hardly touching his own food for more than a morsel or two. Usagi never approved of his interrupting her meal – especially after a battle, and so he had to wait. But the second that take out box was empty all bets were off.

His hands needed to be all over her.

...

A/N: I have no idea if I will have time to work on Day 5 (Something in the future during Crystal Tokyo, but I will try. I definitely KNOW I have plans for Day 7 (Usagi's Birthday), so there will be at least one more. Possible three if the stars align. We will see!


	3. Day 6: Alternate Universe

A/N: Written for MamoUsa Week 2018 hosted by mamousaweek on Tumblr. Day Six's prompt was an Alternate Universe for Usagi and Mamoru. I had to skipped Day 5 because my ideas didn't go anywhere, and apparently, this one ballooned like crazy into an actual mini story (which is why it is a day late).

* * *

Mamoru leaned heavily on the white cement railing, staring dully into the flowing water below. Usagi stood at his left, but he was unable to look at her directly, terrified of her reaction to his news.

"One of my professors shared a paper I wrote with one of his colleagues abroad. Apparently, it lined up exactly with one professor's line of research and now he's trying to recruit me. The problem is the program is at Harvard, which is in the United States."

"Th- That's amazing Mamo-chan! I'm so proud of you!" her voice bright and sincere with only a slight quaver that betrayed her own feelings. He was proud of her too.

"Thank you," he said, finally risking a glance in her direction. She was smiling, but she didn't look at him. Like him, she stared blankly at the swirling choppy water below. He reached out, and threaded his hand through hers.

"I don't know if I can do it though. To be apart for so long…"

"How long?"

"A year at least. Maybe longer."

She swayed on the spot. She didn't cry though. He almost felt disappointed by that fact. He would stay if only she would ask. But she had grown so much, and he knew that she wouldn't. Perhaps that's why it felt so selfish to make his next request.

"I was…" he hesitated. Kami-sama, how was he going to ask her this? How could he be so selfish?

"You have to go!" she interrupted.

"Have to?" he echoed.

"This is such a good opportunity for you! You don't have to worry about me!" she told him brightly. But he saw it – the glassy quality of her eyes – her voice just a little too tight. And he felt relieved – she didn't want to be separated either. She was trying to stay strong for his benefit.

He squeezed the hand he had yet to relinquish. "I think you would handle it better than me," he confessed. "Which is why… I wanted to ask you to come with me."

With his free hand, he pulled out a flier to the Massachusetts International Academy from the inside of his green blazer, and pushed it into her hands.

"What?" her eyes glancing down at the glossy pamphlet before her eyes came back to his, swirling with confusion.

"I found this international high school in Massachusetts that is only about an hour away from Harvard. They offer classes in a multitude of languages – including Japanese, but you would probably have to learn more English. Their admission standards aren't _so_ high. You definitely would have a shot at getting in if you applied. They have rolling admissions, so there is still a lot of time to apply for the fall. And they have a spring term admissions as well."

She stared at him dumbly, and his body tensed in anxiety because he wasn't able to read her reaction, and so he kept on rambling. He must have picked up that habit from her. Though he only did it when feeling vulnerable, and she was the only person he ever showed his vulnerability to. Perhaps, that was why the prospect of spending a year apart was so terrifying.

"I know it's a lot to ask," he admitted, shifting nervously from his left to right foot. "That you'd spend a year away from your family, from your friends – instead of me. I just," he took both her hands in his own. "I just don't know how to do this without you. You're the only family I have. I used to be okay just by myself, but now… I know it doesn't have to be that way."

"You want me to go with you?"

"Yes!"

"I wouldn't be a nuisance?" she asked meekly, staring down at her feet.

He seized her against him. "You are never a nuisance Usako."

She nodded. "Do you really think I could get in?"

"I do. In fact, I think it they have any doubts about you, you will dazzle them all away during the interview."

"I have to talk to my parents."

"Of course," he mumbled into her hair, dreading their answer far more than hers.

* * *

Only an hour after he had dropped her off at home she called him. He wasn't sure if the short time frame was a good or bad sign.

"I have good news and bad news," she began without preamble.

"Go on," he urged, trying to suppress his impatience.

"The don't think it would be good for me to be gone the whole year, and they are not sure that I'm ready right now. But they did say, I can try for the spring term if I pass all my classes this fall and the TOEFL for English proficiency."

He let himself breathe again. It wasn't all that he wanted, and yet, it was more than he had hoped for.

"It's also a bit expensive, and I'll have to get a job."

"I can get one too," he promised. And perhaps he could dip into his inheritance a bit, but he wouldn't tell her that, knowing she would object. The least he could do was pay for her airfare.

"Okay. I also think they're kind've convinced that I can't do it," she added. "But this way it's on me and they don't have to say no themselves."

"Prove them wrong," he whispered. He meant it as encouragement, but it sounded more like pleading in his own ears.

* * *

The day of departure came too quickly. He had packed his bags hours ago. But he still paced back and forth running tracks into the recently vacuumed carpets, uncertain that he was ready to do this. He glanced down at his watch. Motoki would be picking him up in fifteen minutes. He had to be ready.

"It's only six months," he told himself, "You'll see her in six months."

He knew that her following behind him was not guaranteed. But he couldn't let himself consider the other possibility. Even the thought was enough to shoot anxiety to every extremity. Even if her presence was contingent upon her academic success, he had to believe she could do it. For him, believing in Usagi was as natural as breathing. Not seeing her, not hearing her voice every day, not having or not crashing into her on the street corner on his walk to the university – _that_ seemed impossible to contemplate, let alone face every single day for six months straight.

A soft knock at the door informed him that his time was up because his ride was here. Motoki had graciously offered to help him carry his bags down to the car, and Mamoru felt this was a good idea – not because he really needed the physical labor, but because the fact that he could never stand to make someone wait would motivate him to actually move his feet and get out the door.

They grabbed his bags. He took one last nostalgic look around, swung the door closed, and locked the door.

* * *

He stood watching planes land and take off against the backdrop of the midday sun, through the wall of windows that adorned the northern side of the international airport. He wished for rain – it would match his mood. He hadn't gone through the security check point yet, and he wouldn't. Not yet. He hadn't seen Usagi.

He watched her blond profile approach him from the corner of his eye. He turned to face her, and drank in the sight. Her hair was up in her usual odangos, though a bit more lopsided than normal. She stood before him, her lips spread in a watery smile. Before he uttered a word, tears fell from her crystal blue eyes.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, rapidly trying to wipe away the evidence of her upset. "I promised myself I would send you off with a smile."

He pulled her closer, pushing her hands aside, so he could see her beautiful face, pink lips, slightly blushed cheeks, and glassy eyes. He had to memorize it all. He brushed aside the stream of tears with his thumbs.

"I will miss you too," he whispered.

"Will you call me when you land?" she asked.

"It'll be like 3 AM here. Do you want me to disturb your sleep?"

She winced. "Well, _I_ do, but that might not ingratiate my parents to you. Call me at seven?"

"Done," he agreed, not caring that he would be almost twenty-four hours without sleep at that point.

And then, there was silence between them. They just clung to one another – both refusing to be the first to let go.

"I could just stay," he murmured softly into her golden hair.

She didn't respond for a long time, which told him that she was considering it. But then she took a step back, shaking her head. "Don't tempt me Mamo-chan."

He nodded. And reached into his green blazer for the little jewelry box.

"I have something for you."

He held it out to her. She took it and opened it slowly, revealing the heart shaped pink diamond, surrounded in little studded diamonds as well. She gasped.

"It's so pretty Mamo-chan."

"Here," he couldn't tear the ring out of the box fast enough – and he slipped it onto the ring finger of her left hand. She let him do this, and he felt slightly guilty. Wasn't he supposed to ask her a question or make a promise or something…?

But he didn't have any words. He hoped the gesture spoke for him.

"Thank you."

"Oh! And, here, take my apartment key. You can use the space whenever you need it."

"Won't you need it when you come back?" she objected.

"I hope we'll be coming home together then."

She smiled then – a real genuine smile, not forced for his benefit. This is the smile he would remember – the one that would sustain him for the next half of a year.

Normally, he refrained from public displays of affection, but this was an entirely unique circumstance. He pulled her toward him again, and pressed his lips to hers, once again trying to communicate all the thoughts and feelings he did not have words for.

"I love you Mamo-chan," she whispered when they pulled slightly apart if only to breathe.

"I love you Usako."

It wasn't enough. But it would have to be.

* * *

She had managed to say good-bye, managed to accept his gifts, she had even managed to watch him walk away from her. And she had managed to make it back to Makoto and Rei who had come with her. She managed all of that without crying.

An hour later she looked up at the sky – a beautiful cerulean blue sky with only the occasional white puff of a cloud dotting the endless expanse – and saw a plane fly away. It was in that instant that she had burst into tears.

Luckily Makoto had still been there, and immediately she felt warm in her friend's rock solid embrace.

"It's going to be okay Usagi-chan," the brunette reassured. "You're going to send letters to one another like every day. And you'll be so busy studying, that six months will fly by faster than you know it!"

The blond laughed through her tears. "Are you actually trying to cheer me up with studying?"

"Maybe," Makoto muttered defensively.

"You're so bad at this," Usagi complained.

"It made you laugh, didn't it?"

And she was laughing again. She still wanted to cry. But maybe she could do this. Maybe.

* * *

She tore up the score report angrily. Massachusetts Internal Academy required a minimum TOEFL score of 55, and she had earned a 44. And that was after studying and trying so hard for weeks with Ami's ever so patient tutoring.

There was no way she could do this.

"Usagi-chan," Ami interrupted. "You're being too hard on yourself. You've improved so much. Your first practice score was measured at a 31. You can take it again!"

"And each time I take it, it costs 26,000 yen!" the blond whined indignantly. "It'll take me more than two weeks of wages to save up that much again, and I'm supposed be saving for tuition!"

"You will do it, Usagi-chan," Ami insisted.

"How do you know?"

"Because when you've truly set your mind to something, you never fail."

Usagi blushed under the praise. Even if that _was_ true, English was so hard and absolutely no fun!

"How do you do it Ami-chan?" she asked. "You make learning look so easy!"

"I think it's probably just because I enjoy learning things," the blunette confessed.

"No fair! I wish I enjoyed learning things!"

"But then, you wouldn't be you," Ami whispered as if this was blasphemous. "We love you just the way you are. And I promise to help as much as I can!"

* * *

She sighed over the English workbook, deciding this would be the only page for the evening. She usually required herself to do three writing exercises each night before bed, but she had spent hours trying to decipher her algebra homework, and so just this once, she was going to let herself get away with only one.

She managed to read through the first paragraph only needing to look up four words. Then the phone rang. She ran down the stairs to seize the receiver. No one else in the house even bothered to answer the phone in the evening anymore, having since learned that nine out of ten times, it would be for Usagi. And if it wasn't, she would dejectedly come hand them the handset.

"Mushi mushi!" she greeted brightly.

"Good evening Usako."

"Good morning Mamo-chan."

It turned out that Tokyo was thirteen hours ahead of Cambridge, Massachusetts, which made it pretty easy to figure out the time he was experiencing, and not too difficult to talk as long as he called her during his mornings.

"Tell me your rose and thorn of the week!" she asked, her voice high pitched with excitement. If there was one benefit to Mamoru being on the other side of the planet, it was that the only way he could connect with her was to talk. And so now, her stoic, man-of-few-words, boyfriend, was stringing full on paragraphs about his days, thoughts, and even his feelings!

"My rose… was seeing the full moon last night," he told her. "I was out on a hike on this path, and the moon was so bright we didn't need flashlights or anything. Quite the experience. And plus, the moon always reminds me of you! What about you?"

"I received your gift in the mail yesterday!" she gushed, fingering the necklace with a golden rose charm at the end of it that hung from her neck. "Really Mamo-chan, you have to stop spoiling me!"

"I just miss you Usako. And shopping for presents is a way to feel like I'm spending the day with you."

She felt her throat constrict at those words. "Thank you. I'm wearing it now. I imagine I'll never take it off. It makes me think of you."

"Good."

"So what was your thorn?"

"Besides you not being here yet?"

"Yes, besides that!"

"It's too quiet at night. I guess I'm too accustomed to living in the city. My thoughts are too loud, and it's difficult to sleep."

"Is it time for you to go to class yet?" she asked him. These phone calls happened almost every day, but they could never last for more than a few minutes because he would have to leave to attend his morning classes.

"Not quite yet."

"Will you keep talking then? Until I fall asleep?"

"What do you want me to talk about?"

"Tell me the most beautiful thing you've seen since you arrived."

"The Atlantic Ocean just after noon. The ocean almost seems to be a brighter blue – rather than the deep midnight blue you usually see. It's the same color as your eyes."

"I miss you," she whispered.

"Yeah, I miss you too."

* * *

Usagi screamed in shock. Her latest attempt at the TOEFL Exam had come back.

"What?" Rei demanded, concern filling her voice.

Usagi handed her the paper, her own eyes wide in disbelief, and completely unable to form words in her excitement!

"You did it!" her friend exclaimed. "Usagi-chan! You actually did it!"

Usagi tore the letter back into her own possession, and clutched it to her chest, all the while jumping up and down.

"Careful with that, Usagi-chan!" the priestess in training scolded, urging Usagi to lay the crumpled record of her achievement down flat. "You have to turn it in."

"I didn't think I could do it Rei-chan," Usagi admitted, this time her voice strained with uncertainty.

"Well, that's ridiculous of you!" she disagreed. "We all knew that you could. I…" she began seriously. "I'm proud of you Usagi-chan. I know you didn't enjoy preparing for this at all. But you did it anyway and only complained about it a little bit. You've really grown."

"Thank you Rei-chan!"

* * *

"Usagi!" her mother called as she came in.

"Yes, mama?"

The older woman held up an official letter from Jubaan High. "Your report card has arrived, I thought you would want to be present when I opened it."

The blond teenager needed no such prompting, already hovering over her mother's shoulder. She tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach, uncertain of the results. She felt confident about all of her classes except Algebra. The math course work had never ceased to baffle her and she had been flirting with a borderline grade the whole term.

"Well, look at that," her mother commented with a whistle of appreciation.

Usagi scanned through the document quickly. She had passed everything – had even earned an S in Physical Education, A's in Geography and Art, and a B in English. B's were not unheard of on Usagi's transcripts in the past, but in _English_?! She usually had to make up English during a mandatory afterschool make up class every term, which barred her from joining any clubs, just to scrape by a passing grade.

As soon as she had overcome her shock, she was clutching at her mother's arm, and jumping up and down excitedly.

"Usagi-baka!" Shingo whined from the living room. "Would you keep it down?! Some of us still have ear drums and would like to keep them!"

"No!" she shouted, running into the other room, seizing her brother in a very much unwanted hug. "I'm going to miss you so much little brother," she told him. "And I'd be willing to bet you're going to miss me too! It's going to be too quiet around here."

"Well, hurry up and go then!" he countered, shoving her off of him.

"You really like this boy, don't you?" her mother interjected from the doorway, her blue eyes focused on the report card that had never left her hands.

"Mama! I love him!" Usagi sing-songed back.

"I'm really proud of what you accomplished. You know there's a downside to this right?" her mother said with a beaming smile.

"Huh?"

" _Now_ , I know what you're capable of and will be expecting more of you for the rest of your high school career."

Usagi couldn't even complain at that pronouncement. She was too excited. She was going to the United States. "Mama! I'm actually going to the United States for the Spring!"

"Yes, I suppose that was the agreement," she said with a sigh. "We should start by making a packing list."

Usagi could not retrieve a pen and paper fast enough.

* * *

Usagi was slowly sipping from her hot chocolate in their regular booth. It was far too cold this December for her regular milkshake. She sighed, glancing at the wall clock. Minako was already ten minutes late, so that meant she would probably not arrive for at least another ten. She knew Minako was just taking her out to delay her from whatever surprise going away party the others were throwing for her.

Motoki sat across from her unexpectedly.

"Usagi-chan, what's got you down?"

Her eyes jumped to his startled. "What do you mean?"

"I just thought you would be over the moon. Your official acceptance letter arrived last week didn't it? You're really going to Massachusetts to join Mamoru-kun?"

"How did you know?"

"Mako-chan told me," he said with a faraway look.

Usagi smirked, wondering if he had asked her out yet. He had better do it soon, or Makoto might beat him too it.

"When do you leave?" he asked.

"Five days."

"Wow, that's so soon. So, what's wrong?"

"I'm really nervous."

"About?"

"About _everything_! There's the flight! I've never flown before, and now I'm flying by myself."

"Flying is actually kinda fun," Motoki interjected. "Especially when you've never done it before."

She barreled right over his reassurance. "I'm going to a school where at least half of my instruction will be in English, and now mama actually expects things of me because I pulled off _this_ miracle. All my friends are here, and I feel like I'll make new ones just before it's time to leave again. And I'm going to be there with almost no supervision. I can hardly get to anything on time as it is, and suddenly I'm responsible only for myself without even Luna to nag me?"

"Isn't Luna your cat?" he asked, with an eyebrow arched in confusion.

"And then there's Mamo-chan! We've spoken almost every day, but what if I'm not what he remembers? What if we've both changed a lot in the last six months What if it's awkward when we are with each other again?"

"Oh! Just stop!" Minako shouted with exasperation from behind her. "First, Motoki is wrong. Flying sucks. Especially for a long flight like yours. But you'll be fine, because Mamoru-baka will be waiting for you the second you get off that plane."

"Second," she listed off with her finger. "You've hated every minute of this school year because you've been missing him so much that it's just annoying for the rest of us! Once there, you and Mamoru-baka will both be very motivated to make sure you keep your grades up if only so that you don't get pulled home."

"And sure, you'll miss us, but not half as much as you miss him, or that we'll miss you. And of _course_ , you'll have friends like the day after you land because you are the nicest and most outgoing person on the planet. And _everyone_ loves you! And if they don't, they'll have to answer to the four of us."

Usagi and Motoki both cringed as she pounded her fist down on the table for emphasis.

"But none of that is really what is bothering you! I mean, maybe a little. But to doubt that you and Mamoru-baka will do anything at all except fall into each other's gaze and embrace all doey-eyed and in love is preposterous! So, spare us single people your whining and get flipping excited! Because you worked hard for this Usagi! And you will not ruin it for yourself if I have anything to say about it!"

"Do you hear me?" she demanded, her cornflower blue eyes shooting into her like a knife at her throat.

"Yes Mina," Usagi conceded meekly.

"Now scoot over!" the senshi of Venus ordered. "Motoki-kun, be a doll and fetch me an order of fries."

The part-timer could not run away from the table fast enough.

Usagi found herself smiling, feeling giddy and excited again.

"Thank you Mina," she whispered, giving the other girl a hug.

"Of course!" Minako explained, returning the gesture.

"Despite what you think, I'm going to miss you!"

"I know. We're still going to miss you more though."

* * *

Motoki was right – taking off, looking out the window as they soared higher and higher into the atmosphere, was nothing short of magical. She was literally in a chair that was flying through the _sky_!

Unfortunately, Minako was right too. An hour in the view never really changed much, and she was absolutely bored, not to mention restless being cramped up in the tiny seat – and that was with her petite size and everything. She had no idea how normal sized people managed it at all.

And she couldn't sleep – she was far too wired with anticipation and nerves. She was going to see Mamoru! Kami-sama, she missed him so much. Talking on the phone and exchanging letters just wasn't the same, even if she treasured everything she had learned about him, herself, and the two of them as a couple through the exchanges. A letter couldn't cuddle with you when it was cold, or hold you while you cried, or dance with you in celebration.

And yet, despite Minako's reassurances, she was still nervous. Mamoru now spent the majority of his time surrounded by college students. And not just any college students – college students that were good enough to get into and study at Harvard! She was so afraid that he would suddenly realize how immature and intellectually deficient she was, certain that none of his peers would have struggled with the TOEFL the way she had.

She let her head fall against the plastic window, and she stared unseeing at the unchanging blue water below. He said he wanted her to be there. She had to trust that. Whatever the case, the next six months could not possibly be any longer or more miserable than the last six had been.

Her thoughts just continued to spiral uselessly in her head for hours.

The plane landed on the ground with a dramatic thud. She clutched at the arms of her chair, trying to slow her hammering heart. It was time. She was finally here in the United States – landing in Boston.

Waiting for the aisle to clear enough so she could grab her carry-on bag from the overhead compartment and be on her way was torture! Didn't all these people know she needed to get off this plane?!

Walking through the portable hallway was better – at least everyone was moving. She tripped over the slight step up to solid ground, and stumbled a few paces trying to regain her breath and slow down her heart, which she swore was pounding somewhere up in her throat.

But the anxiety didn't leave her. Even when she had gone down another long open corridor lined with unfamiliar shops and restaurants, and down an escalator. She couldn't even tell if she was nervous or if she was excited. But it was definitely getting harder to breathe.

And at the bottom of the escalator, she realized that she had no idea where to go from here. Mamoru had told her just to follow the baggage claim signs and that he would be there. But she had run out of signs to follow. So, she whirled around in different directions, trying to see through the flow of pedestrians.

"Usako," a voice called softly from behind, and she whirled around, her hair whipping her ankles.

He was there, his face beaming in a smile as bright as the sun, in his stupid ugly green jacket, and his eyes drinking her in – making her feel exposed and vulnerable. She didn't know what to say, feeling awkward. Had she really forgotten how his mere presence could turn her knees into jelly and her tongue into knots? She felt so unprepared for the shock he delivered to her system. She pushed her hair self-consciously over her shoulders.

"Umm… It's good to see you," her voice sounding inadequate even to her own ears.

But then his arms were around her, and all the tension fled her form and she returned the embrace – clung to him like he was her life guard, which of course, he was.

And it didn't matter that they were half way around the world, or that she would have to take half her classes in English.

This was home.

* * *

A/N: I am only halfway done with Day 7, which is today! But mamousa week promised we could have until Monday. Hopefully that's still true and I'm not disqualified!


	4. Day 7: Usagi's Birthday

A/N: Written for MamoUsa Week 2018 hosted by mamousaweek on Tumblr. Day Seven's prompt was an Usagi's birthday. This one was surprisingly easy to write… Have fun!

* * *

Usagi curled up on the couch as she waited for her husband to finish packing together all the things she wanted to bring to the party. She had tried to complete the task herself, but her feet and back both were absolutely killing her, so he had volunteered to take over. To make herself useful, she pulled out her phone and quickly called the first of her friends in her contacts list – Ami.

"Hey Usagi-chan," the blunette's voice greeted warmly.

"Ami-chan! We're running a little late," Usagi explained through the phone. "I'm sorry – I had a slow start this morning."

"We aren't going to have your birthday without you Usagi-chan! Are you feeling better now?"

Usagi sighed. It wasn't her actual birthday until tomorrow, but this Saturday afternoon had worked out so much better for everyone's schedule, and had been no possibility that they would have tried to surprise her – not in her current condition. "I think so… It comes in waves. I've just been feeling slight nausea off and on. Like period cramps," she explained.

"Do you feel it now?"

"No… wait, yes… but don't worry about me Ami-chan. It's fine. It's barely noticeable and It'll pass in a minute."

"Why don't you tell me exactly when it has passed?"

"Ami-chan!" Usagi complained. "Why are you being all cryptic? Should I be worried? Do you think something is wrong?"

"No, Usagi-chan. I don't think anything is wrong. Has it passed yet?" she asked calmly through the phone's receiver.

"No. _Ami!_ Answer me!"

"Tell me when it does. I will wait."

"Ami-chan!" she screeched.

"Are you okay?" her husband asked, as he came in from the other end of their house his arms carrying the box with various party gifts and decorations.

Usagi shrugged. "I don't know. Ami's being weird. Okay, now," she said into the receiver. "It's gone now."

"And these waves of cramps have been occurring how often? You said every few minutes?"

"Ami-chan! If you don't start explaining right now, I'm going to…"

"I don't think that you should come to the party Usagi-chan," Ami interrupted her. "You and Mamoru-kun should head to the hospital."

"Tell me what you think is wrong!"

"I don't think anything is wrong Usagi-chan. I think you are in labor. Your contractions are lasting approximately 64 seconds in length based on what I just timed, and you just said they were only a few minutes apart!"

"What do you mean, I'm in labor?! I would know if I was in labor!" she barked into the mouth piece. But Mamoru had already taken the phone out of her hand. Usagi growled in frustration as her genius husband conferred with her genius friend, right over her head like she was a five-year-old child, and not a fully competent grown adult sitting here 37 weeks pregnant, able to feel her own body!

"I've seen the videos!" Usagi complained. "It involves a lot a screaming – a lot more pain than just some stupid menstrual cramps! The baby's not due for another three weeks!"

"Thanks Ami-chan!" he was saying. "Enjoy the party without us."

Usagi glared at him, but he was smiling like an idiot.

"We're going to have a baby," he gushed, bringing a hand to her swollen belly, his eyes soft and swirling with emotion.

She rolled her eyes as she batted his hand away. What did _he_ know? It was _her_ body! She would know if she was in labor. She was in no mood for his insufferable know-it-all explanation either. _He_ didn't have to put up with pulsing waves of nausea every few minutes. It really did feel exactly like period cramps. And really, it was starting to get worse, but certainly not as bad as some of her actual periods.

Really it wasn't fair. The only good thing about pregnancy was that you didn't have to put up with periods or the accompanying cramps for nine and a half months!

He offered a hand to help her to her feet, but she crossed her arms defiantly. "I'm not in labor!" she shouted at him.

"If you're not," he responded calmly. "Then something else might be wrong that could be causing these symptoms. We should go get it checked out."

"I'm not in labor!" she insisted again, knowing that he was just trying to placate her into getting into the car. But she hated moving. With every step she waddled, and the car was so far away. And if he now was taking her to the hospital instead of her own birthday party with all of her friends and at least one delicious cake, she was far less willing to make the journey.

"Usako," he whispered. "The contractions are pretty mild at first in early labor. You've probably been having them for days, but they were so mild and spread apart you didn't notice. You are most likely in labor right now based on the symptoms and timing of what you described to Ami. Our baby is coming. Can we please go to the hospital?"

She glared at him stubbornly.

"If you want me to deliver this baby here, I will. I understand the theory, but I haven't done this before, and I don't have any pain meds."

And just like that, she was on her feet.

* * *

When they arrived at the hospital, she was assessed. She was a little more than three centimeters dilated, and 30% effaced, whatever _that_ meant!

"She's making good progress," the nurse spoke to her husband, as if Usagi wasn't sitting right there perfectly capable of understanding her words.

Another cramp seized her and she groaned. They were definitely getting significantly worse and it irritated her immensely that Ami had noticed it and been correct. She leaned forward and grabbed the nurse by the sleeves. "When can I have pain meds?" she asked.

The nurse laughed. She actually laughed. Usagi, normally a pacifist by nature, wanted to punch her. "Oh honey, you don't want anything too early, or it'll have worn off by the time you really need it."

She was checked and settled into her own room, which she luckily did not have to share. And the next few hours were boring and uncomfortable with a nurse that came to check on her every hour or so. The rest of the time, Mamoru tried to distract her, but she was having a hard time focusing on his anecdotes, as these god-damned contractions grew in strength. They were now about the equivalent of her worst periods. She was told that by the end it would be her worst period times ten.

She stood up from the bed at his urging – apparently, walking around would relax her. She was grateful that he offered his hand, which she hadn't exactly mangled yet, but she was worried for the damage she might do to his hand before this day was over. But then, she fell forward onto her knees gasping in shock as the strongest contraction yet swept through her form, and didn't have the mental or emotional capacity to worry about his physical discomfort.

"Just breathe," her husband said, "Nice and easy, in and out." She focused on his voice – rock solid velvet rolling over her sticky sallow skin.

"Thank you," she managed after the worst of it was over. "I'm really glad you are here even if I'm all sweaty, crabby, and gross."

"You have never looked more beautiful."

She lost herself in his midnight blue eyes, intense with sincerity.

And then she was screaming, and angry that the contraction didn't allow her to savor his compliment.

The nurses came running at her piercing scream. They led her back to her bed, all the while offering instruction in how to breathe and how to scream. Frankly, she was insulted. She did both of those things rather well by anyone's! What was this nonsense about pushing the screaming into the lower register? Apparently, the high-pitched scream would lock up her body, and she needed to relax to allow things to open up.

It still seemed like bullshit. She tried it anyway – unable to think, and only follow directions. And strangely the moaning, not unlike a cow, made her feel better – not worse, so she stopped arguing.

"Just keep breathing Usagi-san," the nurse encouraged. "Breathing and moaning if you need. Try to stay relaxed."

Keeping her muscles loose, and not reflexively tightening took all her concentration. She couldn't speak, she couldn't see the room, couldn't see her husband. And she started crying.

"Mamo-chan?" she sobbed, feeling like a lost child.

"I'm here Usako," his voice soothed her as nothing else could, and she strangled his hand harder. To his credit, he didn't flinch or pull away.

Suddenly, her whole form was trembling uncontrollably, and sheets of sweat rolled from every pore on her body. It didn't hurt – not like the contractions, but somehow it was almost worse. Like she had lost complete control of her body. The quaking convulsions made it harder to focus on breathing, harder to focus on moaning instead of screaming when the contractions did come. She barely noticed the rush of water that soaked through her hospital gown and bed.

"She's started transition," one nurse reported. "Call the doctor. It's almost time."

"What about the pain meds?" she cried.

"It's too late for an epidural," the nurse said. "I'm sorry, but you progressed really quickly, and there isn't time."

Forget punching the women, Usagi was contemplating murder!

Or at least she was, until another contraction struck her.

"We can give you a shot of butorphanol, but they only last about thirty minutes, but it takes the edge off."

"Give it to me!" the blond demanded.

"Transition is the worst of it Usagi-san," the nurse told her. "Just when you think you can't do it anymore, it'll be time to push and then it'll be over."

But the nurse was wrong _again_. The butorphanol was useless, she had tore through the daily allowed dose and barely noticed a few minutes of relief. And this so-called transition from seven to ten centimeters lasted far longer than the promised thirty to ninety minutes. Five hours later, the contractions came just as hard and probably even more often and she had only made it to eight and a half centimeters dilated. And she had no energy left to follow the obnoxious nurses' directions, keep herself "relaxed", or even listen to Mamoru – the only person in the room she still trusted.

"I can't do this anymore," Usagi pleaded with him.

"Look at me Usako." Mamoru turned her head toward his own, holding her glassy gaze. "Yes, you can."

She wanted to cry at those words. He thought he was being encouraging, but she never in her life felt more that she could not live up to his words.

"You are so strong. Just think at all the times you faced death."

She almost started laughing at that. What she wouldn't give for another go at Metallia if it meant her labor would be over! None of their enemies had taken a solid nonstop twenty hours of combat to defeat. None of them required her to tolerate endless waves of agony, only to be told she had to just fucking relax and let it happen. She wasn't good at relaxing, she was good at fighting! She had raw power, yes. Emotional strength to overcome the fear that she would not survive, yes. But the sheer endurances this required brought the game to a whole new level.

It wasn't that she couldn't handle the pain. At the beginning of the transition she could focus on breathing, make herself moan, and force her body to loosen when all she wanted to do was curl into a tight little ball. She would have been able to handle it if she just wasn't so fucking _tired_.

"I'm right here," Mamoru kept murmuring into her ear.

She clenched his hand in a death grip as her whole form tightened uncontrollably as the latest contraction overtook her. She screamed so completely that her voice cracked, jumping up an octave. She fought it back – pushed the scream into the lower register again, but she quickly lost control and it jumped right back up.

"Usagi, you need to relax. You're so tense and that's making it harder for your body to dilate and open."

"Don't tell me to fucking relax!" she shouted. "I can't do this anymore!"

"Yes, you can," her husband contradicted her again.

"Would you stop saying that?" she snapped at him.

"No," he replied calmly. "Because I believe in you Usako."

"I want meds Chiba! There's clearly time! This baby is stuck or something! Or she doesn't want to come out! So, get me an epidural!"

The anesthesiologist arrived exactly seventy minutes later. _Seventy_! As if she hadn't spend the last god knew how many hours in agonizing pain already. She sat up sideways in the hospital bed, her back exposed as she trusted this stranger with access to her spinal cord in hopes that the pain would at least lessen.

"We're going to wait until this contraction is over Usagi," the doctor said from underneath a surgical mask. "And then I need you to hold _absolutely_ still."

But minutes passed, and the involuntary convulsion did not let up.

"You sure this sensor is correct?" the anesthesiologist asked. "It couldn't have lasted this long."

 _Like hell it couldn't!_

"Can you hold absolutely still for me Usagi?" he asked as he loomed behind her.

"Yes," she said shortly. She could do anything if it offered her any release.

She didn't even feel the needle going in – maybe a slight pinch, but nothing compared to the contraction that was still ripping through her form. She was almost grateful that it gave her something to focus on.

And then suddenly, all the tension evaporated like water on a black top in the middle of summer almost instantly. And Usagi let out a huge sigh of relief, she laid back on the cot, and instantly fell asleep, like a kitten on a cloud.

She woke up again to pulses of discomfort, not dissimilar to the nauseous cramps she had described to Ami early that day. Or maybe, it was yesterday now, as the room was dark, lit up only by the beeping heart monitors behind her. It didn't matter. What mattered to her was that she could feel pain. She was not grateful that it was completely diminished from before, since she was hooked up to the epidural, she felt entitled to a painless existence.

"Mamo-chan?" she cried, as another pulse overtook her.

A figure on the cot beside her, started awake. "Usako?" he called in concern. "Are you awake?"

"What's going on?" she asked him.

"After the epidural, your contractions almost completely stalled, but the doctor thought it best you get some rest anyway, so you'd be more prepared for delivery."

She nodded, and then gasped as a huge pressure suddenly built up in her pelvis and she felt herself automatically bearing down.

The lights in her room flashed on and Mamoru poked his head out the hall, no doubt to find a nurse.

Usagi ignored him, finally feeling confident in what needed to happen. Soon she was surrounded by the doctor and a few nurses. When she felt the need, she let herself push.

"You're doing great Usagi-san," the doctor told her. "Keep at it."

Usagi ignored her as well, and just let things happen. She bore down again with a grunting roar.

"She's crowning. Just a few more good pushes Usagi-san and were done."

She felt Mamoru's gentle hands on her head and shoulder, and she was glad he was there, but she had not one iota of attention to spare him.

She pushed down again, growling in a way she had none know what humanly possible before this day – like an animal protecting its offspring.

An infant's cry flooded the room, and Usagi wept, her awe and joy refusing to be contained within her form. No sound on earth had ever been more beautiful.

Mamoru moved from her side to greet the little angel, and she suddenly felt irrationally jealous that after all her hard work that _he_ got to see her first.

"May I hold her?" she begged, her voice cracking with fatigue.

"We're cutting the cord now," the doctor told her.

She laid back becoming more agitated every second her brand-new daughter wasn't in her arms.

Just when she was about to lose it completely, Mamoru was right there, his adoring eyes lost within the little wrapped bundle he offered to her.

Usagi was unprepared for the emotions that assaulted her – unprepared to cherish and love this small creature with its tiny face and even tinier hands with every fiber of her being the second she locked eyes on it. Even Mamoru had been an acquired taste. The salty tears fell from her face onto the baby she held.

"She's such a small little lady," she said with awe. "It's so good to finally meet you Small Lady," she cooed to the infant, who was still crying.

"Happy Birthday Usako," Mamoru whispered into her ear. And she started at the greeting. It was her birthday, wasn't it? She had forgotten.

"I don't know how you're ever going to top this one Mamo-chan. This is the greatest birthday present of all time!"

* * *

A/N: OMG! I found writing every day this week to be immensely amazing and yet, also somewhat stressful trying to get something out at least _every other_ day! Apparently, I liked even numbers better.

Anyway, if this set of drabbles is your first exposure to my work, and you enjoyed it, I would be honored if you checked out my other Sailor Moon Works. There are starting to be quite a few of them!

Technical notes: It is very possible to be in labor and not know it! I was having contractions for days without realizing it until a friend told me a story about her having contractions regularly and not realizing it until someone pointed out what her symptoms sounded like! Thank goodness there are other women in our lives who have done this before us!

Epidurals apparently have mixed results depending on how well they hit the nerve. My anesthesiologist must have been amazing, because until it wore off, I felt NOTHING, and oh my god I needed the break! If my son had come when he was supposed to without getting stuck, I think I could have done a natural birth, but having experienced the magic of an epidural I'm not sure I would make the attempt again.


	5. Day 6: A Fight and Make Up

A/N: Written for MamoUsa Week 2019 hosted by mamousaweek on Tumblr. Day Six's prompt was Fight and Make-Up.

Special thanks to FloraOne for helping me wrap this one up in time to post it today.

Note: Takes place during R break up.

...

Mamoru watched her from his usual booth like he had everyday for the last week. He had no right, he knew it, but he couldn't tear himself away. Usagi was light and he was a moth. She was morphine and he was a drug addict. It physically hurt to be in her presence when he couldn't even speak to her, but it was somehow better than not seeing her at all.

He stared at the back of her golden head seated in a booth across the Fruit Parlor's dining room. They had progressed far enough into their break up that it was possible for them to inhabit the same room (well, a large restaurant in any case) without either of them bursting into tears or retreating completely.

But today, Usagi was stretching his tolerance. She had come in with a friend (a _male_ friend). Though maybe friend was too strong a word as it was quickly apparent that the boy sitting across from his girlfriend (his _ex_ -girlfriend) was an assigned partner for some school project.

But even if it had been a date with romantic intentions, Mamoru liked to think he could have handled it. He wasn't completely confident he could make that claim, but he _wanted_ to be able to say it was true. Because, more than anything, he just wanted to see Usagi _happy_.

And if he had to stay away to keep her breathing, he couldn't be the one to do that. It would have been hard, but he would have forced himself to bare it, just as he had forced himself to break up with her (the best thing that had ever happened in his miserable life) so that she would be safe.

But that wasn't the situation. They were supposed to be working on the project, but the boy was too familiar with her. His head kept invading her work space, he slid closer to her so that their sides were touching, and he accidentally touched her too often to be coincidence.

And again, it would have been _fine_ (who was he kidding; he would have been a jealous mess) if Usagi _welcomed_ the boy's advances. As it was, she was uncomfortable. He could see it in the way she shrugged his arm off her shoulders, in how she inched away and across the seat every time he tried to close the gap, in the sound of her laugh - hollow and false.

He managed to sit through an _hour_ of this torture, seething and boiling in his seat, unable to leave or throw coffee mugs in rage, held back from intervening by their estranged status. Sentenced to complete inaction as the love of his life remained uncharacteristically focused on her school work while this idiot boy-child attempted to provoke a response from her with one douche-bag move after another.

Usagi packed up her belongings, the boy followed suit a few seconds later, and Mamoru's breath came just a bit easier. _Soon_ , she would be away from this entitled child who refused to take a hint. And maybe Usagi would be free from this boy's unwanted gaze and Mamoru could get on with his day without reason to worry.

Then the boy took it too far. Usagi circled around the booth to leave, her so-called-partner intercepted her path, causing her to come to an abrupt halt. He said something Mamoru was thankful he couldn't hear, and tenderly pushed a stray flyaway golden strand of hair out of her face.

Mamoru's grip on his long forgotten coffee mug tightened. He couldn't handle this.

Usagi literally flinched away from the gesture.

His feet bolted into action without permission. It didn't matter that things were broken between them, it didn't matter that his interference would no doubt set him back fives steps in their break up, and it certainly didn't matter if Usagi was mad at him now or later.

He could never leave her in distress! (Well, not unless he was the one to cause it).

Before the boy could make another douchey move, Mamoru had draped an arm over her shoulder, and pulled her into his side.

He was completely unprepared for how good it felt to have her in his arms - how warm she was, how her curves fit exactly into his side despite their differences in height, how her hair felt brushing against his skin, how the slight pulse of her breathing comforted and grounded him, how his heart seemed to just _know_ this was home.

"Usako." It was too easy to pretend. (He wasn't pretending). "I didn't know you were going to be here!"

She went rigid in his embrace - frozen as cold and solid as an iceberg. But she made no move to disengage. He felt a bit guilty - almost like he was taking advantage of her plight as an excuse to touch her just one more time.

Mamoru turned from her perfect face to glare at the boy-child. The boy glared back. Mamoru raised a single eyebrow, and the boy glanced away. Mamoru tried not to smirk at how easily the boy was to intimidate. (He was not successful).

"See you later, Tsukino-san," the boy said, as he departed. "You can call me if you need help with your part."

Usagi nodded stoically. She didn't smile. She didn't speak. And he departed.

The exact second her classmate disappeared through the automatic doors, Usagi recoiled from his protective space as if burned. He crossed his arms, trying to replace the lost warmth. (It didn't work).

"You're welcome," he told her, allowing himself to look her straight in the eyes, half expecting a grateful smile or a thank you.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she growled, her knuckles white on the handle of her school briefcase.

"It was obvious he was bothering you," he defended, slightly confused.

"Yeah, and what do you think _you_ just did?"

"Usak-"

She glanced away.

"Usagi-chan," he corrected, trying to swallow the sudden lump in his throat. "You're being ridiculous."

"You don't _get_ it, do you?" Her eyes flashed with blue fire. " You just did the _exact same thing_ he did!"

"I did not! He had his hands all over you when it was clear he was not welcome."

"So. Did. You."

"But I..."

"You assumed that you could touch me," she interrupted harshly. "In fact, what you did was far more cruel because for a split second, I actually thought you cared!"

"I do!"

She was quaking in righteous anger. "No, you don't. You just have a male ego thing that says you have to protect the little woman. Well, I _don't need you!_ "

Mamoru was shocked into silence. Usagi didn't need him. Some part of him had always thought she would be better off without him. And he had always felt that he needed her more. She had always been undeniably powerful, incredibly easy to love with more friends than he could keep track of, and stubbornly independent when the need arose. And with all that, perhaps she _didn't_ need him. But to hear her say it...

It was a punch in the gut. It was all the air being evacuated from his lungs. It was a nail to his heart. He wasn't certain he knew how to survive it.

But he had no right to argue. He had no right to even feel hurt. They were in this mess because of him. It had been his choice to walk away. That he had done so to protect her didn't matter. (Might even make her that much angrier).

"I was trying to help," he whispered, barely managing to get the words passed his lips.

"I know," she said, her voice soft, without any fight left in her. "That just makes it _worse_." She shifted her briefcase from one hand to the other. "If you want to be with me, then fine. But if you don't, you need to let me take care of myself."

She met his gaze again - her glare pinning him in place. "And that _includes_ senshi battles."

" _What_? Absolutely not!"

"It's not up for discussion! Good-bye Mamo-chan." Her voice held a note of finality to it that shook him to his core. And then, she walked away. She didn't glance back.

She was gone.

His chest didn't collapse in on him, though it felt like it would buckle and cave in with the slightest puff of air.

"You okay, Mamoru-kun?" Unazaki asked as she wiped down a table. "We closed ten minutes ago."

"F-fine." Did his voice just crack? It felt like there was a rock in his throat. His eyes burned.

Somehow, he made it home.

The first time he felt her transform, he tried to ignore it. Really, he did. He lasted all of eight seconds before he was bounding across Tokyo's skyline before the setting sun. Because what was the point of any of this, if she wasn't safe?!

The battle was a long one. And he had to admit, she had changed. Completely. He watched her from the rooftop like an owl waiting for a flutter of weakness on the ground below. But she held herself back - cautious and vigilant - waiting and watching for the moment to strike. And when the window of opportunity opened, she leapt through it with the precision of a sniper.

Maybe she really didn't need him.

Just when he had assumed it was over, Sailor Moon dodged left when she needed to dodge right, her attack failed to land its mark, and the droid had her in its sights. And again, like in the Fruit Parlor, his body was in motion before he had given his consent. He simply was physically incapable of ignoring her peril.

His arms were around her and they were flying through the sky, the wind buffeting them on all sides.

He set her on her feet gently. Only for her to violently shove him away.

"I already told you this is not okay!" Her jaw lifted and her arms crossed defensively across her chest.

"I tried, okay?" he snapped. "You said you didn't need me to save you."

"I don't!"

"Then what the hell was that?" he shouted back, gesturing to the battle (that was still going on).

"It was fine. It would have been barely a scratch!" she defended.

"You have to be more careful!"

"What do you _care_?" she screamed.

And he froze as if she had stabbed him. How could she ask that? And yet, after all he had done to convince her to hate him, how could she not?

"I can't do this back and forth Mamo-chan," she cried, stabbing a finger into his chest. "You act like you can't stand me, like I'm some irritating bug unworthy of your attention, and then you hold me as if I was the most precious thing on this earth. You leave me alone and abandoned and the instant I think that I'm strong enough to do this without you, you barrel back in like a knight in shining armor. And I have to not fall for you all over again! Each time, I have to survive you leaving me all over again. And I can't do it!"

She was slamming her fists into his chest at this point with tears streaming down both cheeks. He took her rage, feeling maybe even more strongly than she, that he deserved it.

"And I can't let you make a careless mistake!" he entreated, his arms fluttering useless at his sides when all he wanted to do was hold her. "If you die, all of this will have been for nothing."

She went hard as stone. "All of _what_ will have been for nothing?" Her voice was ice again. Her eyes sharp as needles.

"Nothing!" he denied, but he knew it was too late. He had let eight words too many slip.

"You will tell me what you meant _right_ _now_ Mamoru-baka or so help me..."

"I can't!"

"You _will!_ "

"I love you!" He hadn't meant to say it.

"Stop it!" she clasped her hands over her ears and collapsed into a puddle onto the ground. "Don't you understand how cruel that is?"

He collapsed to his knees beside her. "I have never stopped loving you," he whispered.

"Then why?" she had never sounded so unsure, so small.

"To keep you safe." he admitted, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders.

"I-I don't understand," she stammered.

He raked a hand through his hair in frustration. What was he _doing_? This was going to make staying apart impossible.

"I know you don't. It's better that way."

He started to leave. She grabs his sleeve before he can escape. "No! Please, wait," she cried; she sounded like a wounded animal broken and scared. Too worn and hurt to fight, but not ready to give in either.

He turned back, let her pull him to the ground. He could never stand to see her in pain.

"H-how does breaking up with me keep me safe?"

"It was a dream," he confided.

"A dream?!" she repeated scornfully. "That's stupid!"

He tensed. He had thought so too at first. He really just needed to get away. He tried again, to leave. But she ran and stood in front of him, her hands on his chest, blocking his path of escape.

"You don't get to do that!" And though he was physically taller, it felt like she towered over him in her reproach.

"Do what?"

"Punish me for being angry by refusing to talk. I'm angry! And _you_ are talking!" Her hands balled his tuxedo into her fists. Her lower lip jutted out in her frown. And her eyes held him in place, demanding answers he had hidden for so long.

And just like that he deflated. And then he was laughing. "Okay," he conceded.

He told her everything. He told her about the nightmares and how he had tried to ignore them until they became the only thing he could see. She cried.

He told her of his fear that she wouldn't care (she didn't) if he told her. She screamed and hit him. Of course, she didn't care about some stupid dream even if it _was_ a prophecy. _Nothing_ was worse than being apart. (He didn't disagree).

And then she clung to him. Told him that she could respect his fear. That they could be smart about this. They could figure it out. That it would be okay.

And he believed her. If it was a prophecy, they (she) would find a way to shatter it and write a new destiny. He allowed himself to weave his fingers through hers for the first time in _months_.

He believed in _her_. And he prayed to every God known to humankind that it would be enough. (It was).

…

A/N: No idea where this came from. It materialized out of nowhere! Hope you enjoyed!


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